


At Once Our Time Devour

by Mira



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2010-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:18:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira





	At Once Our Time Devour

_11pm Pacific Standard Time_

Dom was watching a Discovery Channel special on artificial insemination of koalas when Sean rang. "Come over," was all he said, and then rang off. Dom stared at the mobile in his hand before flipping the cover down. "Well," he said to the television, "it was a shite programme anyway." And it was, really, a kind of animal pornography, watching the relish with which the technicians cobbled together a device to pump semen out of the poor male koala. "They won't even know it's not a real vagina," one crowed. Dom shook his head and toed the remote's power key.

It wasn't a long drive to Sean's, and one Dom knew well, so he was there in twenty minutes or so. He sat in his car and stared straight ahead. Streetlights gleamed against the night, curving away; he stared so hard the lights grew halos and blurred. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and then he went in.

"Hey," he greeted Sean, who rose from a straight-backed chair he'd moved to the hallway. Sean wrapped his arms around Dom, and though he'd lost quite a bit of Sam's weight, he still felt solid when Dom pressed against him. "Hey," he said again, and squeezed Sean tightly. "It's okay, you know."

"Don't try to make me feel better," Sean said huskily, but Dom felt a smile against his neck. He leaned back, not letting Sean go.

"I'd never do that," he said, pursing his lips. "Who gives a fuck about how you feel?"

Sean kissed his cheek. "How do you say it? You're a right bastard?"

Dom grinned. "That I am, and don't forget it."

"As if you'd let me." Sean released Dom. "The girls are asleep."

"Chris?"

Sean looked down, then shrugged. After a few seconds, he said, "It's a big house."

"Jesus, I'll say."

"Asshole."

"We're both pointing out the obvious." Dom took Sean's hand and led him through the hallway and then downstairs. The house had been cut into a hillside, and the lower level away from the street faced out on a gentle slope. Enormous windows lined that side of the house, and a long veranda stretched beyond them. This late, this dark, all Dom could see were his and Sean's reflections in the windows, wavering slightly as they walked down the hallway.

Dom slid the sliding glass door open and the warm moist night air flowed in. They went out onto the veranda, Sean sighing heavily as he escaped the chill of the air conditioning. "What are we gonna do?" Dom asked, fishing in his pocket for a joint. He pulled out one and stuck it in Sean's mouth, who obligingly inhaled when Dom lit it. "Yeah, suck that fat boy," Dom said, and Sean choked all the smoke out.

"Fucker," he said, and took another big hit before passing the joint to Dom.

They leaned against the glass behind them, and then slid together. Sean felt warm against Dom's shoulder and arm. After another hit, Dom said, "I miss him, too."

Sean gasped, a little sob really, and tamped out the joint, silently returning it to Dom. He started to move away, but Dom caught his elbow. "Don't go. It's why you told me to come over, isn't it? Because you know what happens next."

"Don't," Sean started, but Dom kissed him abruptly. Sean made another noise, a better one, then pulled away.

"Come on," Dom said, and led the way around the house, back to where his car was parked. "Come on."

They drove in silence; after a while, Dom said, "I thought it would be nice at the beach; that okay with you?"

Sean shrugged. "Not like we can surf."

"No. No, nothing's like it was, though."

"Fuck, Dom."

Dom patted Sean's thigh and squeezed it lightly, leaving his hand on it. Sean covered it, squeezed it back, and then lifted it onto the steering wheel. "Eyes on the road and your hands on the wheel," he sang.

"You're such a jerk."

"Yeah, that's what Chris says."

Dom swung the wheel, tyres screeching as he slammed on the brakes. Sean had to brace himself against the dash as they jerked to a stop.

"Sean Patrick Astin. Fuck what she says. Fuck all of it. Just talk to me, for once, just bloody talk to me." He could barely see Sean's face in the dark, just the gleam of his eyes. "Talk to me," he repeated. "Talk to me."

Sean twisted so he could rest his head against the seat. Dom thought he would refuse -- sometimes he'd do that -- but finally Sean whispered, "I'm tired, Dom. And, and I'm a little scared." His voice trailed off.

Dom sighed deeply. He felt the same way. He leaned across the seat and rested his head against Sean's shoulder. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but when Sean's arms came around him, it was incredibly comforting. "Yeah," he finally said.

They sat there for a few minutes, and then Dom put the car in gear and backed up. "Where the fuck are we, anyway?" he asked.

"Um, I think you were looking for Lincoln?"

"Yeah, yeah. Okay." They drove in silence, traffic picking up as they neared the intersection.

"Thanks, Dom. For coming. And everything."

Dom risked putting his hand on Sean's knee again; this time, Sean rested his hand over Dom's. "Let's go to the pier and walk a bit. Talk a bit."

"I'd like that. It's beautiful at night, the light on the water and the sound of the waves."

"Yeah." Dom smiled to himself. He liked it when Sean discovered his inner poet.

"Have you talked to him lately?"

"Him Elijah? Or him Billy?"

"Either, actually."

"No. You?"

"No. I almost called Lij tonight, but." Dom could feel him shrug. "He's busy. He's got a life."

"I can hear you think 'unlike us,'" said Dom.

"Well, in fact, it was 'unlike me,' but don't slam the brakes again, okay? I didn't say it, and it was only a fleeting thought."

Dom squeezed Sean's knee again in encouragement. They drove in silence again until he parked near the pier; the city parking lots were closed after sunset, but there was street parking not too far away.

Once they were outside in the cool damp air, Dom said, "What do you think happened, anyway, that made us like this? I wasn't like this before." He knew there was no need to specify about before what; Rings cut through their lives like a knife, severing the before and after into two unequal parts.

"I don't think I was, either," Sean said slowly. "I've always been ambitious. I've always talked too much, and over-thought things. And I think I always had a tendency toward, well, not really depression, but melancholy, you know?" Dom nodded. "But this is different."

"Yeah. Yeah, it's different for me, too. I used to just do stuff. Well, I still do; you know that." They grinned at each other; the night was bright with reflected light from the pier's lights and the moon. "But seriously, folks." Sean slid his arm around Dom's shoulders. Dom sank into the warmth of Sean's body, putting his own arm around Sean's waist. "Seriously. I don't think I used to miss stuff. We moved around so much when I was a kid, I was always having to adjust to changes. No big deal, you know? But this. Man."

"Yeah."

They moved apart from each other to climb the wooden steps of the pier. Even now, nearly midnight, lots of people were there: kids skateboarding, smoking and toking, cops strolling by, a homeless person pushing a shopping cart stuffed with a sleeping bag and empty aluminium cans. Dom saw that Sean was studying the man intently and knew him well enough to know he was imagining himself in that situation. "You're with me, now," Dom whispered to him, and put his arm back around Sean's waist.

"Reading my mind?"

"Easy enough to do, it's such a simple thing." They grinned at each other, and Dom felt a jolt of pleasure that he'd been able to lighten Sean's mood, that Sean had called him. Out of all the people in the world, Sean had called him.

Of course, who else would he call? So few could understand what they'd gone through. Not just the principal filming, running around on their knees, stabbing imaginary enemies with their swords, but everything that had followed: the years of premiere after premiere, of awards ceremonies, of press junkets. The fears of being typecast or forgotten, of Billy and Dom being perceived as interchangeable, of Sean still seen as the fat one. At one point, Elijah had referred to himself as the King of DVDs, and Dom had shuddered when he'd read it, knowing well how real that possibility was.

So of course Sean would call him. It was habit by now, and a good habit, not like the smoking they'd both picked up in the years since Rings, or the little problem with alcohol that Dom had flirted with before Sean confronted him.

They found a dark and quiet corner of the pier where they could lean against the damp railing and stare out over the water. The waves were shallow and choppy, shit for surfing, but the rich iodine smell was cleansing. Sean rested heavily against Dom, who braced himself and leaned back. They wouldn't be recognized here, nobody would care; in a way, the very public nature of this place offered them privacy, so Dom slipped his hand into Sean's, who gripped it tightly.

"We should be together," Dom found himself saying. He stared straight ahead, not looking at Sean. For a long time, he thought Sean wouldn't respond, but at last he sighed.

"I think about it. I think we're good for each other. God knows why, but I do love you."

Dom felt a little bubble of a laugh in his chest, pleasure at hearing confirmed what he already knew, that Sean loved him. "Yeah. Me, too," he said softly. "It's been fun, the times we spent together. It's always harder being alone."

Dom felt Sean nod, his curly hair brushing Dom's ear. "How would we work it?"

"You could just move your stuff into my place. It's big enough."

"Barely."

"Well, we could get a place together. If you could live anywhere, where would it be?"

"New Zealand."

"Fuck, Sean. Yeah, I know that, but I meant here, where the work is."

"Venice, maybe. That's nice. Crowded, though. Maybe Malibu? Except that's so fucking expensive."

"Sounds like you want the beach."

"Wouldn't you?"

"What about San Pedro? It's cool, kinda funky. Or Seal Beach?"

"Orange County? The trendy Dominic Monaghan in Orange County?"

"Fuck you."

To Dom's pleasure, Sean turned and hugged him, whispering, "I'd love to. I really want to."

"I was hoping," he said into Sean's ear, and then licked him, making him giggle. "Let's go someplace. Get a hotel room."

"Jesus, Dom. We'll be in all the gossip columns tomorrow."

"No such thing as bad publicity. Besides, we won't. Nothing fancy. Just a place with a bed, so you can fuck me into the mattress."

Sean trembled around him. "You know I want this."

Dom pulled away, took Sean's hand, and began the walk back to the car. "Then that's what we'll do." He looked at Sean's face, pale in the streetlight. "I'm serious. Move in with me. Stay there when I'm gone. Make it your home, our home. We're better together than apart."

"It would be nice, to wake up in the morning with you. I'm tired of sleeping alone. I think I was meant to be married."

Dom laughed. "Married to me? Well, hell. Why not."

"Where are we going now?"

"If you're going to move in with me, let's do it now. Back to my place. Except it's a mess."

"Big news."

Dom's car beeped softly as he clicked the key ring, then he opened the passenger door for Sean. Sean started to get in and then pulled Dom down to kiss him firmly. Dom tilted his head slightly and kissed him back before jogging to the driver's side.

It was a longish drive back to Dom's flat, but traffic was much lighter by now and he was an aggressive driver. Sean described Ali's acting class, and they discussed whether it was a good thing or not to let her follow in Sean's footsteps. "She wants to," Dom said. "I think that should be the bottom line. If you were forcing her, I'd fight it every step of the way, but I see how much she loves it."

Sean nodded. "It's just, I dunno. Makes me a bit uncomfortable."

"You're not your mum, Sean."

"Thanks. I try not to be. I mean --"

"It's okay, you don't have to explain. I know you'd never say a word against your mum. But she herself says how naff she was."

"Naff." Sean nodded, a slight smile on his face.

"Speaking of your mum."

"Oh, shit. Yeah. Well, I think she knows a lot more than I've told her. For one thing, every time she reads a 'Lord of the Rumours' blurb, she calls me to see if it's you. Tells me to tell you to be careful.

"And, Dom, if that is you? Knock it off. If we're together, I want to be together, and not read about your exploits in elevators or press conferences."

"Won't need exploits in elevators if I come home to you, will I." Dom knew that would please Sean; he also felt it was the truth. He was always humiliated when something like that got out. Not that everything was true, not by a long shot, and even the true stuff was pretty badly distorted. But enough of it was based on his actual behaviour that he did not want to imagine trying to explain it to his parents or brother. Or worse, to his nephews and nieces.

He glanced over at Sean. "Seriously. Mostly it isn't me, and when it is, it's because I was drunk or high and horny."

Seam grinned. "I can take care of part of your problem."

"Countin' on it, babe."

"Babe." They both smiled in memory of Elijah's husky voice.

Dom pulled into the parking lot of his building and then down to the basement parking garage. When they finally stood in the lift, he turned and stepped very near to Sean, who was watching him carefully. "Not till we're inside," Sean warned him. "Hidden cameras, you know." Dom had expected nothing else, but it was fun to tease Sean, especially now.

The lift doors slid open just then and he grinned. "You are so easy," he murmured. Sean smacked his shoulder, but didn't disagree.

Dom intentionally didn't slam the door shut and grab at Sean. This was going to be different. This was a homecoming of sorts. He led the way into the lounge, dropping his over-shirt on the sofa and watching as Sean did the same. He paused for a moment, oddly uncertain, but Sean smiled at him and pushed his shoulder, so he continued up the hall and into the bedroom.

Fortunately, he'd made the bed this afternoon, and the sheets had been changed in recent memory. Sean drew back the covers, sat, and began to untie his trainers. Dom laughed and kicked his off, slithered out of his jeans, and fell on the bed next to him.

"This is great," he said, and he meant it. He felt light with happiness, and although the empty space left by Billy and Elijah could never be filled, at least Sean was here, smiling at him, eyeing his growing erection with obvious pleasure.

"Yeah," Sean said, and put his hands on Dom. Warm, firm hands, touching him, removing his tee shirt. "Oh, god, you feel good," Sean murmured, and rested his face on Dom's chest, inhaling deeply. "And smell good. Like sweaty, sexy, after work-out Dom."

Dom laughed, and pushed Sean onto his back so he could work on his jeans and baggy tee. He kissed skin as it appeared, licking and biting and nuzzling Sean, making him jerk with nervous tension and laughter. When they both were naked, Dom paused to look down at Sean. "I'm glad you're here," he said, a little embarrassed at how earnest he sounded. "Really glad." He leaned down and kissed Sean slowly, knowing that this was important to Sean, and then slid his hand down the sweet lines of Sean's body and grasped his cock. "What's all this then?" he asked innocently. "Whatever should I do with it?"

"Got a little treat inside for you," Sean said. "Just taste." They grinned at each other and Dom thought: oh yeah. This is so much better than watching koalas.

"I just bet you do," he murmured as he lowered himself down and wrapped his mouth around Sean. Above him, Sean gasped and trembled.

"Fuck, fuck," he moaned, but Dom barely heard him, focused as he was on the swell of Sean's cock in his mouth. He pushed himself down, nearly gagging, but wanting it all and, more than that, wanting to make it good for Sean. This was special, this would be special if Dom had his way, and Dom almost always got his way. Sean's agreement tonight to move in with him only proved that. Dom, working hard over Sean's body, felt tears come to his eyes -- partly because he was trying to deep-throat Sean, but partly from relief. This is good, Dom told himself, backing off a bit to suck and nibble at Sean's balls while he used his hands on his cock. Sean was writhing beneath him now, and Dom relied on his weight to hold Sean in place.

His face was wet with his own saliva when he released Sean, who groaned. "Fuck me," Dom asked him, and pressed a sachet of lubricant into Sean's hand. Sean opened his eyes widely; in surprise, Dom knew. This wasn't their normal routine. Sean smiled enormously, and rolled Dom onto his back. Dom knew he was stronger than Sean, but Sean was bigger, and besides, he wanted Sean to weigh him down, to press him back into the bed, and somehow Sean knew exactly what he wanted.

He climbed on top of Dom's body, arranging himself carefully so their cocks lined up; Sean's was still slick from Dom's mouth as he rubbed them slowly together. Then he leaned his head down and kissed Dom, deeply and thoroughly, his hands cupping Dom's head, tugging at his hair, tickling his ears. Dom felt breathless from Sean's weight and passion and his own excitement and trepidation about what was coming. "Is this what you asked that journalist for?" Sean said suddenly. Dom was disoriented for a moment, but then shook his head.

"Wasn't true. Wasn't me, honest, Sean --" but Sean kissed him again, shutting him up.

"Better not have been." He stared into Dom's eyes for a moment, and Dom saw his lips were pink and wet and swollen; he watched them, nearly hypnotized, as Sean said, "Dunno if you wanna hear this, but listen anyway. I love you, ya big dick. I've loved you for years."

"I know, I know," he murmured, and strained upward to catch Sean's lips again, who let him. They kissed for a few minutes more before Sean reached down and slid one hand behind Dom, under his arse. Dom shifted slightly, raising himself on his hip, and sighed into Sean's mouth when his hand reached his arsehole. This was what Dom wanted tonight, what he needed.

He hadn't really approached any journalist, certainly not the way it had been reported in that tabloid, but he did need this connection, and now Sean was here to give it to him. Dom liked to think of himself as more subtle than hitting on strangers so blatantly, but he was no stranger to desperation and loneliness. He opened his legs and wrapped them around Sean, so he could rest with his knees between Dom's legs. He pushed Dom's legs up and back, opening Dom to him, and Dom rolled his head, groaning. "Yeah, Sean, wasn't me, promise, but now, with you, I, it's," but Sean's slick fingers were inside him making it impossible to think.

"Elijah?" Sean asked, and it took years for Dom to understand his question. "And Billy?"

"Don't say their names," he groaned. Just fuck me, he thought, but Sean was persistent.

"Elijah? Billy?

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm not sorry --"

Sean removed his hands, and for a second Dom thought he was being punished for loving the others, but then Sean pushed into him, slowly, cautiously, very Sean-like in his movements, and over the roar in Dom's head he heard Sean say, "Don't want you to be sorry. Want them here, now, with us. All of us. All. Of. Us," and then both were silent. Sweat rolled into Dom's eyes as he moved in counterpoint to Sean's powerful thrusts.

Elijah, Dom thought, and maybe it was more than sweat dampening his face. Billy. Oh christ, Billy. And Sean, Sean, who had stayed, stayed with Dom. Of all of them, he'd never have predicted it would be Sean, yet here he was, pumping almost angrily into Dom's willing body. Dom slid his hands from Sean's thigh and waist to his own cock and began pulling rhythmically; Sean covered his hands with one of his own, and they worked together on this common goal of pleasure, and trust, and yes, Dom knew that Sean was right, of love. He loved Sean desperately in that moment: his big body sweating over him; his willingness to take on Dom despite all the obstacles they both faced; his earnestness and lack of irony; his stodgy music and ridiculous taste in clothes -- Dom loved all of it. Then Sean changed the pattern, and Dom came in their hands, messily, and he groaned with relief as Sean bent awkwardly over to kiss him, still thrusting deeply into his body, shoving Dom up the bed until Sean, too, shivered like an exhausted animal, his teeth bared, and he groaned as if in pain.

Dom kept his eyes shut as he felt Sean slip from his body, and lay down next to him, one arm and one leg draped over Dom's body, Sean's breath gusting in his ear. The words hovered between them, embarrassing Dom, yet the moment and their decisions charged the air, demanded sacrifice, and when Dom finally opened his eyes he found, as he knew he would, Sean staring at him, pupils wide in the low light. "Love you," he whispered, embarrassed at himself, but it was true, and even though he knew that Sean already knew it, he also knew that Sean needed to hear it, would need to hear it for the rest of their lives.

Sean closed his eyes, smiling, and hugged Dom even tighter. "Big wally," he murmured happily.

Dom thought: You big girl's blouse. But he was smiling just as hard when he closed his eyes and let sleep take him, safe, for the moment, and loved.

And not alone.

***

_2am Eastern Standard Time_

Elijah stared out his bedroom window, down into the street. It was late at night, but people continued to stream past, intent on getting home, going out, partying, whatever. All of them appeared to have something to do, unlike Elijah.

Which actually wasn't entirely true, he reflected, turning away from the window. He could go out; there was nothing keeping him in the apartment. His place was a mess, but he didn't have to tidy it up now. He didn't have to do anything. Sometimes he wondered if that were part of the problem; he was between movies, just waiting. Lined up and signed up, but no place to go.

He was lonely, he admitted to himself. Lonely for his friends, now scattered all over the world. Billy in Glasgow, Dom and Sean in LA, Ian and Bean in London, Viggo in Idaho, and Orlando who knew where. He was alone in New York, alone among these millions of people. He kicked at a pile of laundry on the floor, feeling simultaneously ridiculous and pathetic.

He'd talked to Sean a couple weeks ago, an odd conversation that had stopped and started like a poorly-tuned car, nothing like the endless discussions they'd used to have. He knew Sean was distressed about many things: his marriage, of course, and they had managed to talk about that, awkwardly and hesitantly.

Elijah also knew that, since Rings and his move to New York, Dom had become an even more important part of Sean's life. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Happy, of course, that someone was there for Sean during this awful time, and happy that it was Dom, who knew better than anyone how to have fun and how to jolly Sean out of his moods. He was happy for Dom, too, who was another source of worry for him. Some of the gossip columnists and tabloids seemed to delight in making oblique references to sexual exploits that certainly sounded Dom-like to Elijah. If Billy couldn't be there, Sean was a good substitute to help calm Dom.

But he was jealous, too, he admitted only to himself. They were his friends. They should be turning to him for comfort. Except he was in fucking New York, and they were hours and hours away.

But it was more than simple jealousy of them having each other. Elijah liked to think he was a better person than that. It was also that he no longer had them, and he was agonizingly lonely these days. New York had seemed so exciting when he was here shooting Sunshine, and he'd loved it when Sean had helped him fix up his new place, and Dom had stayed with him while filming Livien. He'd felt central in their lives, necessary.

Now he did not. And he missed it, he painfully missed it.

He lit another cigarette, squatting on the floor, surveying his domain. He'd been so proud of it. His own place; he'd even had to interview for it, like being admitted to college or drama school. But now that he was here, so what? At the interview, they'd asked him about parties; hell, the only people he would want to invite were back in LA, comforting each other. Or in Glasgow, doing God knew what.

Ash fell from his cigarette onto the hardwood floor. He poked at it with a finger, and then wiped his finger on his jeans, standing up, stretching. He'd stopped doing the yoga Dom had taught him. Stopped reading the books Sean had bought him. Stopped watching the plays that Billy had recommended. He was as vacant as this apartment had been, and moving all this junk in here hadn't filled up anything.

He was homesick, he decided. But home wasn't a place. It wasn't his mom's, or New Zealand. It was wherever the boys were, and they were scattered. What if he went back to LA and Dom and Sean were together? He thought that was a real possibility now. Would he sleep on their couch? He knew where he wanted to be: right in the middle. One on each side of him, taking care of him, paying attention to _him._

You attention slut, he told himself, near tears and furious about it. Just go out. Find a new band. Go dancing. Get drunk.

Instead he picked up the phone.

***

_7am Greenwich Mean Time_

Fuckin' hell, Billy thought as he half fell out of bed; who the fuck would be ringin' him now?

But he knew the answer even as he fumbled for his phone and hurried down the hall before answering. "Fuck off, Dominic," he whispered, shutting himself into the kitchen.

"Hey, Bill," Elijah said.

"Well, then, fuck off, Lij," he said, but his stomach cramped. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Billy filled the kettle and switched it on, waiting silently until Elijah said, "I'm sorry to bother you, Bill. I know it's early there."

"It is that, but I'll live. Now tell me why you rang."

"I dunno. Bored, maybe."

"Truth, Lij." The kettle began to vibrate, so he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and fixed himself a pot of tea. While it brewed, he said, "Costin' ya quite a bit just to sit there."

"I can go --"

"No, you can't, not till ya talk to me. Saw you signed for another film. Starrin' role, too."

"Yeah, it's a great script. Plus Prague. I'm excited."

"Don't sound excited."

"I am."

"Yeah, I can tell. Where are ya?"

"New York."

"Anybody wi' ya?"

"Naw."

Billy took a gulp of tea and a deep breath. "Okay, we've established that yeh're at yer flat in New York, yeh're alone, and it's the middle o' the fuckin' night."

"How are you, Billy?"

Billy took another sip. How was he? A damn fine question, and not one he wanted to answer. "Fine," he said at last.

Elijah laughed. "You're as big a liar as I am," he said, and Billy had to smile at the sound of Elijah's maniacal laugh.

"Maybe so."

"I miss you, Billy. I miss it all." Billy set down his mug and switched the mobile to his other ear. "I miss seeing you guys everyday. Doing things together. And, and everything, you know? Everything."

"I know," he said softly, but Elijah pushed on.

"I miss Pete, and I miss the sunrise, and I don't miss Feet but I miss the time we spent together, and shit," he choked a bit, and Billy clutched the phone harder, bending over it, letting the steam from the tea rise into his face, "I fucking miss fucking everything, Billy. I just fucking miss it."

"I know," he said again, and took a deep breath. He straightened up, putting a hand over his stomach against the roiling pain there. "I fuckin' know, Lij. I'm the same way. Gettin' up, I wonder where Dom is. Why Sean isn't gabbin' on about politics. Why Ian isn't screeching about the music. And you, Lij. I miss you." There was a long silence, filled with the hissing of the intervening miles, and then Billy sighed. "We gonna do anythin' about this?"

"What can we do?"

"Not bluidy much, I s'pose."

"You could come home."

Billy laughed. "I am home, you stupid sod."

"Not that kind of home." Billy stopped laughing at that. "Our real home. You know what I mean." Billy knew. Glasgow was home; how not? But he'd discovered a real home, and it wasn't a place he could point to on any map, not even one made by the Professor. "Come home, Billy," Elijah said softly. "Leave now. Meet me here, and we'll go together."

Billy looked toward the closed kitchen door, as if he could see through it, down the hall, and right into the bedroom. He thought he had come home; he thought he had made a home. A new flat, yes, and someone to be with, he'd found all that. Why, then, did his stomach clench and cramp all the time?

"Come home," Elijah said again. "And I will, too."

Billy glanced at the clock on the cooker; it wasn't yet half seven. He could, he realized. He could leave. Catch a flight to New York, met Lij, fly to LA, gather the others, be home. It was entirely possible.

And entirely impossible. "I've got a job," he said. "You know that. I sent you the play. We're in rehearsal."

"Bugger rehearsal," Elijah said shortly.

"And what am I to say to m' girl? Have you thought of her?"

"Had you?"

"That's not fair," Billy protested, but Elijah cut him off.

"Life isn't fair, Bill. You taught me that. Yeah, it's not fair. But you also know I'm right."

"I don't. I'm hangin' up, Lij, I am." He took a deep breath. "Look. I hear what yeh're sayin'. I do. And shit, Elijah," and to his humiliation his throat closed and his chest constricted. "I can't. I'm not brave enough."

"Fuck that, fuck that, Bill --"

"No," he said firmly and a bit too loudly. He glanced guiltily at the door again. "No," he repeated more softly. "I'm hangin' up now. I love ya, none dearer, ya know that, but I can't do what yeh're askin' me to."

He pressed "end" on his mobile and stood staring at it in his hand. Elijah's voice still rang in his ear, and his words in his heart. He did love Elijah, in no cliched miserly Scots manner, but whole-heartedly, as he did Dom and Sean.

The kitchen door opened. "Billy?"

"Sorry, love. Didn't mean t'wake ya. Can I fix ya some tea?"

***

_2:30am Eastern Standard Time_

Elijah stared at the dead phone in his hand, tempted to call back and yell at Billy. He tossed it down and collapsed onto his messy bed. Well, that was a right fuck up. He'd said too much, too; now Billy knew more than Elijah was comfortable with. Not that Billy would use it against Elijah; he wasn't that kind of man. But Elijah was the kind of man who cared about such things. Subtle, discreet: those were his bywords, and he'd hardly been so with Billy.

Fuck, he thought, and closed his eyes. Maybe he should go out, get shitfaced, find a warm body, fuck and be fucked, anything, anything but lie here in this empty apartment remembering the good old days. He was twenty-three years old, for fuck's sake. How could he even have good old days? Did he really have nothing more to look forward to?

Vig was in LA, but it was a school night, so he wouldn't call him and risk waking Henry. Ian was in London, and it was just as early there as it was in Glasgow; no way did he want to risk the ire of Ian. And Elijah couldn't find the courage to call Dom or Sean. Dom would probably be out, answering his cell from some crowded noisy drunken party with one of his many publicists, and what if Christine answered at Sean's? She'd grown steadily colder toward Elijah over the years; he knew she knew about him and Sean. He couldn't face her disapproval tonight. He had his own to contend with.

He sighed, and rolled onto his back. He knew what he was going to do. Change the bed, because frankly, the sheets stank. Take a bath. Go to bed and jerk off thinking of Sean and Dom and Billy, all three of them at once, in the same bed, focusing on Elijah's wants and needs. 'Cause he was a greedy bastard who needed them and, since he couldn't really have them, he'd use their bodies as fantasy fodder. Already he could feel himself growing hard at the thought. He smiled grimly. Fuck you, boys, he mentally called out to them. Singly and in unison.

Sighing again, he pushed himself upright and began stripping the bed. He'd tidy the room, too. If he was going to have fantasy sex, he was going to do it right. He sank into the task as if into one of Dom's meditation exercises, and maybe it was like that. Imagining Sean coming over soon, so the place would have to be neat and at least a little bit clean. He even threw a load of clothes into the washer, feeling smug as they churned away. Imagining Billy would be over, so the right kind of music, and a fresh bottle of Scotch at the ready. And imagining Dom over, so he'd put on that cool tee-shirt of some fifties band that nobody'd ever heard of and his watch with the thick leather strap and nothing else.

Staring into the steamy bathroom mirror, he knew how truly pathetic he was. Imaginary lovers. Fuckin' hell, as Billy would say. What a ridiculous wanker.

He shook his head, but continued combing his hair and rubbing deodorant under his arms. He was an actor; he'd act. Throw himself into the role. He'd fought imaginary spiders and pretended to be inside other people's minds; he could certainly manage a fantasy night. Besides, he had lots of experiences to draw on.

He flopped backwards onto his fresh bed, enjoying the scent rising around him. His narrow wrist did look good with the dark leather bisecting it. He ran his hand over his tee shirt to his belly, and threaded his fingers into his pubic hair, tugging lightly. Dom would do that; he could almost imagine he was watching Dom's hand stroking. He closed his eyes to remember better, one of his favorite times with Dom. In Toronto, nearly three years ago, both doing promotion work for one of the Rings movies; the others were at other premieres so they were running themselves ragged doing interviews and appearances. Finally they'd collapsed in laughter, frustrating their interviewers even as they laughed along with Elijah and Dom, and then they'd returned to their rooms.

"Come on," Dom had said, taking Elijah's hand and pulling him away from his open door into Dom's room, and Elijah had been happy to go, happy to feel Dom's arms around him. He'd watched with delight as Dom stroked him, smiling up at him from where he knelt in front of Elijah, his hands glinting with silver rings and studded bands.

Elijah wanted that so powerfully: He wanted Dom here with him, touching him, tracing the geography of his body with his scrawled-upon hands and eager mouth, pushing him places that he never knew he wanted to go until Dom took him there.

He turned his head to the side, biting his lips, tears filling his eyes, and for an instant Sean was there, too, smiling at him with such love in his sweet brown eyes. Sean wanted him, too; he knew that. Sean had loved him from the moment they'd met all those years ago. He remembered the feeling of Sean's arms wrapping around him, protecting him, comforting him, inserting himself between Elijah and the world. Dom was power, and Sean was tenderness, a heart as big as Samwise Gamgee's. He remembered how they'd first kissed, so fumblingly, embarrassed, clutching at each other in Frodo and Sam's clothing, Sean as red as a beet in his urgency and excitement. That was the moment he chose to remember with Sean, the moment he wanted to replay like some magic DVD.

And behind him, unseen but fully present, Billy lay, twining his arms through Elijah's to pull him to his chest, kissing Elijah's neck and ears. Sean kissing Billy's hands and then leaning over Elijah to kiss Billy, and Dom climbing up his body to kiss Elijah, and Sean, and Billy, his weight heavy on Elijah.

All true, all false, all with Elijah, all impossibly distant, all he wanted, all he wanted. He came, thick and hot in his own hands, gasping with a longing so powerful it physically hurt. He ached with misery.

He wiped himself off with his tee, jerking it over his head and tossing it to the newly-cleaned floor. He rolled onto his stomach, pulling a pillow over his head. Life is a fucking bitch and then you die, he thought, drawing the sheet over him.

He slept for a long time, deep and dreamless and alone.

He was in his kitchen contemplating fixing a second carafe of coffee when the intercom buzzed. "Yeah? Morning."

"Good morning, Mister Wood. You have a visitor, a --"

After a muffled argument, he heard, "Let me in now, goddammit," in a thick Glaswegian accent.

"Billy! Yeah, dude, come up. What the fuck -- get up here."

"High security, Christ --" and then the phone went dead. Elijah rushed back to the kitchen to start more coffee and then to the door, flinging it open in time to find Billy staggering toward him, dragging a piece of black luggage. "Fuck," he said in greeting, dropped the luggage, and hugged Elijah fiercely.

"What the fuck are you doing here? How did you get here?"

"Flew, idiot. I smell coffee."

"Yeah, yeah, come in, it's almost ready. I thought you couldn't come? You had rehearsals, right?"

"Bugger rehearsals," Billy said, and they grinned at each other. Elijah threw his arms around Billy, gripping him tightly.

"Fuck, I missed you so fucking much," he whispered, and Billy clutched him back. They rested their heads on each other's shoulders. "I really can't believe you're here. You must've left the minute we hung up."

"Yeah. Didn't go over so well with the missus."

"I imagine not." They staggered into the kitchen together, still locked around each other, squeezing through the doorway, Billy's luggage bumping along behind them. "Yet here you are."

"Here I am. Missing rehearsal, by the way, so not for long." They stared at each other.

"Why?"

Billy looked away, his face softening. "I told you. I missed you." He turned back, his face very near Elijah's. "I miss it all, Lij. So much."

Elijah nodded. He understood. There really wasn't much to be said. He released Billy long enough to pour him a cup of coffee, knowing exactly how much milk to add, and refilled his own cup. They sat at Elijah's small kitchen table, pulling their chairs close enough that they could lean into each other.

"When I left, it was mornin', and I was in me own kitchen makin' tea."

"Now here you are, drinking coffee with me, in my kitchen in the morning." They smiled at each other, and clinked their coffee cups. "When do you have to go back?"

Billy shrugged. "Haven't exactly bought the ticket yet, but soon."

Elijah kissed him. "Then we have a little time to kill."

Billy finished his coffee in two gulps, stood, and pulled Elijah with him. "I've got an idea."

Elijah smiled happily. "I bet I have the same idea." Of course they had the same idea, he thought as Billy tugged at him; how could they not. "This way," he said, when Billy hesitated, and gestured toward his bedroom. God, how lucky that he'd cleaned a bit last night, or Billy would be teasing him for the next year.

"Oh, now, this is lovely," Billy said, kicking at his semen-stained tee-shirt, but he was grinning, raising his eyebrows, trying to look lascivious but achieving merely mischievous. He spun Elijah around and steered him so he faced the bed. When they stood at its side, he wrapped his arms around Elijah and whispered, "Stand still, just like this, then."

Elijah shivered, delighted by Billy's mood, and then Billy began to unbutton Elijah's jeans and push them down. "Kick them off, yeah," Billy murmured, and he obeyed happily, trying not to giggle. Billy slid his hands up the backs of Elijah's legs, over his ass, stopping to squeeze him gently, and then around his waist. "On yer knees, boy," he whispered and kissed Elijah's ear.

Elijah knelt on the bed, awkwardly but willingly, and then Billy pushed him face down, leaving a hand on his neck. "Stay there, no matter what."

"What are you doing?" Elijah tried to ask, but Billy said, "Shh, shh. You'll find out," and gently pushed his head down. Elijah spread his arms out over the bed, feeling ridiculous, spread out like that, his ass in Billy's face.

Billy knelt on the bed behind him, between his legs, and leaned forward, covering him. He kissed the back of Elijah's neck, then down his back, licking him, tickling him lightly to make him giggle, and then smoothing his skin as if stroking a horse. Elijah began to breathe faster; he was almost afraid of what was going to happen.

When Billy reached Elijah's ass, he didn't stop kissing or licking or touching him but slid his finger into that private moist spot. Elijah squeaked, but spread his knees farther apart and pushed back. Because yes, he wanted this, he wanted Billy to do this, even as he gasped and trembled.

Billy bit gently at the swell of Elijah's cheeks and then began licking again, licking at his asshole, dabbing at it with his tongue, kissing and sucking at it, then gently inserting his tongue into Elijah, who closed his eyes tightly. He began to rock against the bed, rubbing against the comforter, while Billy massaged his balls and thighs and pushed his thumb into Elijah's hole. "Fuck," Elijah gasped, "Yeah, oh, Bill, please," but he couldn't say anymore. This was better than any fantasy, the pressure of Billy's hand against him, Billy's warm body pressed against him, Billy's wordless murmur comforting and arousing him. "Are you, will you --" he tried to ask, but then he felt the cool slick of some kind of lubricant against him and then inside him. Billy's fingers were gentle and slow, slower than Elijah would have liked, but he knew Billy too well by now to even attempt to hurry him.

Billy hummed behind him, touching him everywhere, getting lube all over Elijah and, no doubt, himself, squeezing the loose skin of Elijah's balls, pulling at his cock, now a little raw; the lube felt cool and soothing on it and he pushed eagerly into Billy's hand, then back onto Billy's fingers. Forward and back, cool and hot, fucking and fucked, everything, just everything.

Except not quite, because then he felt the larger pressure of Billy's cock against him. He froze, took a deep breath, and relaxed. This was Billy, slow and sure and utterly confident. Behind him, the humming continued, tuneless, accompanying their lovemaking. "S'all right, Lij," Billy murmured, and it was, it really was. Elijah relaxed into the bed and let Billy do the work, slowly pushing into him, tiny tiny movements that rocked him against the mattress and comforter, each one opening him up wider to Billy. He felt as if his heart were opening, too; he'd been so alone, and now, impossibly, here was Billy, fucking him, loving him, humming some unnamed tune in greeting.

He relaxed more, slumped onto the bed, held in place by Billy's cock and Billy's hands and Billy's mouth on his back, still kissing and licking him. "Good, good," he thought he heard Billy hum, but he couldn't be sure, sound and pressure were merging for him, some strange synesthesia pulling him right out of himself even as Billy pushed inside him.

Then Billy was fully in, and he put his arms under Elijah's and around his chest, just like in Elijah's fantasy, and drew him back and up, so they knelt upright on the bed. In that position, he continued rocking, more forcefully now; with each thrust, Elijah cried out, as wordless and as tuneless as Billy's song. They each wrapped their hands around Elijah's cock, and he floated there, in Billy's arms, sliding from one pleasure to another and then back again until he was lost, utterly lost, and yet safe in Billy's arms, and then he dropped his head against Billy's shoulder and climaxed. He stayed there, limp, while Billy continued to pump into him, now whispering to him, and then Billy froze, and they both collapsed onto the bed.

"Oh fuck," Elijah said at last. He felt Billy's cock soften and slip from him, messy and wet. Billy pushed at him, so he rolled onto his side, Billy following him. They lay together, facing each other, kissing lightly. "Let's do that again."

"My poor knees wouldn't take it," Billy confessed. "But I thought about it the whole time I was flyin' over here. Had to beat off in the lav."

Elijah laughed with delight at the image of Billy masturbating over him in mid-air. "Does that count for the Mile High Club?" he wondered. "I mean, since it was kind of with me?"

Billy kissed him fiercely. "I missed ya so fuckin' much, Lij. I thought my old heart was gonna break if I didn't see ya again." He yawned. "We have time for a nap, ya know. Shut yer gob and yer eyes."

Elijah kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Billy's neck and smiling into face. "I missed you too, Bill. So fucking much."

"Sleep, boy. More fucking later."

Elijah didn't think he'd be able to sleep, but with Billy next to him, he did, and dreamt of flying with the boys, like surfing in the sky, in the blue antarctic sky.

_9pm Pacific Standard Time_

Sean liked to be fucked. This was not a new realization for him; he'd been aware of it since he'd hit puberty, although he hadn't been able to articulate that desire until much later. After he'd read Freud and The Joy of Gay Sex, he would occasionally think of himself as anal-centric. He'd never said that to another soul and he doubted he ever would, but it was what he told himself.

It was only when he'd arrived in New Zealand that he'd acted on that desire. New Zealand had changed everything, including Sean, opening him up to possibilities he'd discounted as impossible fantasies. He knew by then, after a decade of marriage, what he liked, but had decided long ago that he would go without.

But he hadn't. One miserable day, exhausted, feeling fat, feeling unlovable, he'd turned and found Elijah in his arms, nearly sobbing in exhaustion himself. "Shh, shh," he'd murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around his co-star, who'd clung to Sean, trembling. Sean had half-carried Elijah into a vacant trailer, he wasn't sure whose, and held him, eventually sitting down and pulling Elijah right on top of him.

He'd cried a little, too, from exhaustion and homesickness and loneliness, but he'd found his comfort in comforting Elijah. They sat together for a long time, until someone came looking for them, wondering if they wouldn't like to get out of their Feet and wigs. Which of course they had, in a strangely somber mood. Sean still felt clingy but had resigned himself to never referring to what had happened again, but when they were no longer hobbits, Elijah took his hand and silently walked to the car with him. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then got it. "My place," Elijah had told the driver; Sean remained silent, and when Elijah leaned against him, he draped an arm around Elijah's shoulders and held him, sighing deeply.

So he stayed with Elijah that night, the first time for so many things. Elijah was younger than Sean but more experienced in some ways, and he was bossier than Sean, which at first embarrassed him. He was older, bigger, married, a father, but Elijah owned his heart and body in a way no one else ever had.

The first time he opened his body to Elijah, he'd cried again, feeling like such a cliche, but Elijah was confident and calm and so loving that Sean had wet dreams the next two nights, remembering Elijah's small, firm hands on his body, pushing him, pulling him. During the day, he knew he spent too much time watching Elijah, he knew he was being foolish and making himself ridiculous, except no one minded. Maybe they didn't notice, or maybe they understood, whatever; Sean was grateful that nothing got between him and Elijah.

Not even Dom, who was far more suited to Elijah than Sean was: nearer in age, experience, and temperament, not even Dom could divert Elijah from Sean. They'd drink and dance and laugh maniacally, but Elijah came home to Sean, every night, even the nights Sean didn't go out with them. "Why?" he'd asked Elijah repeatedly, but Elijah just bit his thumb and smiled, and then told Sean to turn over.

The first Christmas, they'd all gone home, but it was so far and so alien, that the next break they spent in New Zealand. "Let's find someplace together," Elijah had suggested late one drunken night, and Sean, used to obeying him, had done so: on the west coast of South Island, far from anyone and anything. Big, more expensive than he was comfortable with, but with four bedrooms, so more than enough for them.

He loved those memories. He knew that when he was old and near death, he would still treasure those ten days with the hobbits. It had been hot and the house was near the beach, so they spent every morning trying to surf -- this was early in their surfing days and even Billy was awful back then -- and the afternoons playing video or computer games, or cards, or scrabble, or reading. By evening, Sean and Billy would be ready for a quiet dinner, but Dom and Elijah would want so much more.

The second night, Sean had tried to encourage them to go to the nearest town and find a bar or club, but Elijah refused. "I came here to be with you," he said firmly, and took Sean's hand. By now, Sean was accustomed to casual touches and kisses from his new friends, although he and Elijah still kept their relationship hidden. But now Elijah leaned down and kissed him on the mouth, deeply and passionately, pushing Sean back in his chair, straddling his legs. This was unmistakably sexual, and Sean braced for catcalls from Dom and Billy. When he raised his burning face, though, he saw them standing together, shoulders touching, watching closely.

"Look at me," Elijah said, and he did. Elijah put his hand on Sean's face, and kissed his cheek. "Love you," he said quietly, and Sean smiled. Yeah, he was embarrassed, but Elijah was clearly staking some kind of claim on him, and he could only be proud of that.

Then Dom walked behind Elijah, leaned over his shoulder, and kissed Sean. Sean was too surprised to react for a second, but when he tried to pull away, both Elijah and Dom held him in place. "You and Dom," he tried to say, but he wasn't sure if he was speaking to Elijah or Billy.

"Yeah," Elijah said, and he turned to look at Billy behind him.

Billy had his arms crossed, watching them thoughtfully. He stared at the three of them, biting his lip. Suddenly he nodded his head, dropped his arms, and walked to them, wrapping his arms around Dom and Elijah's shoulders. They leaned back into him, Elijah still on Sean's lap. Sean looked up at Billy, wondering what he was thinking, what he would do.

"Don't be afraid, Seanie," Billy said at last. "This is something I want, and I think you do, too."

Sean swallowed hard, and looked at Elijah, who smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Do I?" he asked, and Elijah nodded.

"Well, I do. But only if you do."

Dom snorted. "Lij, there isn't anything Sean wouldn't do if you asked him to."

Sean nodded ruefully.

"What do you want?" Elijah asked him. "Do you know?"

"Not really," he said very quietly, but that wasn't true. He knew what he wanted. He wanted everything: all the attention of all three men focused on him. He blushed again as he felt himself start to rise; Elijah wriggled on his lap, worsening things intentionally. "Yeah," he finally admitted. "I know."

"Up, boy," Billy told Elijah, nearly lifting him off Sean's lap. "You two, go get a bed ready." Dom and Elijah left together, Dom's arm slung around Elijah's waist. "You," Billy said to Sean. "Stand up."

Sean rose slowly, uncertain, embarrassed, anxious. "Stop thinkin' so much," Billy told him, and then kissed him.

Now, lying next to Dom, freshly and thoroughly fucked, he told himself again: I'm anal-centric. It really wasn't what he had wanted to be, but nonetheless, this was who he was. And he had benefited from his honesty. First with Elijah, who helped him take the first steps to acknowledging who he really was, and then with Billy and Dom, all three men teaching him to please and to be pleased.

He rolled over and studied Dom in the pre-dawn light. He'd felt so empty when he'd called Dom. In his big house, with his children and dog and cat and wife, he was utterly isolated. What the fuck was wrong with him? But Dom had responded almost instantly to his call for help, and almost instantly made things better. No one would ever believe he and Dom were together; they were too different, light years different, but maybe that was why they worked so well. Dom was the yang to Sean's yin. Dom would like that thought; Sean hoped he would remember to tell him.

In the meantime, he'd watch Dom sleep; restlessly, of course, Dom was always restless. "Twitchy" he called it, and he was right; he was a twitchy guy. They had that in common, similar needs to keep moving, like sharks never stopping or they'd die.

Except together. Together they could rest a bit; together they could find respite from the anxious energy that drove them.

He reached out and lightly brushed the hair from Dom's forehead. Blond now; Sean remembered when he had mousy brown hair, soft as down. Now it was spiky with old gel and mousse, and a dozen different colors of blond and brown and red. His eyes were smudged with liner and mascara, and Sean wanted to kiss the tiny lines that curled around his mouth.

What a night they'd had. He rolled onto his back, still smiling in memory. A good time was had by all, he thought, but that cast his thoughts back to the days in New Zealand when all four would climb into a bed. Sometimes Sean thought he was actually floating, he was so aroused, trembling and gasping and on fire from their caresses and kisses. Shit. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before or since; he'd had no idea such things were even possible outside the fantasies of pornographers, and yet he'd done it, repeatedly.

He'd fucking kill to relive those times, too. Nights in Wellington, usually at Elijah's place, the sound of traffic and rain counterpoint to their quiet moans; afternoons in Te Anau, the snowy light filling a crowded hotel room; entire days at the beach house they'd rented. One memorable afternoon, drunk on tequila, they'd stripped and dashed into the ocean, naked as babies, laughing till they cried, and then rushed back into the house, trailing seawater and sand, too eager to shower before plunging into each other. Sean had been kissed and licked and sucked and fucked into oblivion, and then woken up to do it all over again.

Well, at least he still had Dom, and at least Dom shared those memories. They knew each other's bodies very well by now; Sean knew exactly where to suck on Dom's balls to make him tremble, and when to slid a finger into his asshole while deep-throating him, and who looking at solid citizen Sean would ever dream he possessed such knowledge? And Dom knew Sean's secret: that he loved to be fucked, longed to be overpowered, that the phrase "turn over" eroticized the most quotidian moment and guaranteed that Sean would have to excuse himself to the restroom, Dom following, grinning lopsidedly in anticipation. Who would guess that Sean had been fucked in the men's room of some of the nicest restaurants in LA?

Wasn't anybody's business, he told himself, blushing even as he lay in bed, Dom snoring softly next to him. Just his and Dom's, and it was to both their benefit that Dom knew these secret things. He kept a few of Dom's secrets as well.

Dom sighed heavily and rolled over. "You're thinking too loud," he said, his voice thick with sleep. "Go back to sleep, babe."

"Babe," Sean repeated softly, smiling; it was their code word for comfort, to remind each other of what they'd had, of their shared past. He put his head down next to Dom's, smiling. He had been thinking too loudly; Dom was right, and he was right to invoke Elijah. They both loved Elijah more than words. For such a little guy, he could sure inspire devotion, and was the sexiest creature Sean had ever imagined. He wriggled a little on the bed, his cock swelling in memory, and Dom raised his eyebrows.

"Turn over," he said, and Sean felt himself blush as he obeyed. Dom's hand was warm as it slid down Sean's ass, and he spread his legs encouragingly. Yeah. This was what he wanted. If he closed his eyes and pretended, he could almost feel Elijah's hands, and Billy's, too, stroking him. Dom would fuck him now, and he wanted that so much. He started to come up on his knees, but Dom pressed the small of his back. "Wait," he whispered. "Just you wait." Sean shivered in anticipation. He knew Dom was going to take his time and tease him until he was sweating with desire; they'd played that game before, and Dom was very good at it.

Dom knew, even more than Elijah now, how much Sean craved attention, and how much he loved being touched there, and Sean opened his legs wider, groaning, pushing into the bunched sheets, while Dom massaged his upper thighs where his legs met his torso, and rubbed his balls firmly. Sean wanted so much, so much, he didn't know how to ask for what he wanted, but Dom put his face right on Sean's ass, his breath warm and moist, and kissed and bit and licked his way into Sean's hole. He cried out, "Yeah, God, please, yeah, Dom, honey," and more nonsense he knew he'd be embarrassed about later.

Dom's tongue in his ass was an illicit craving that never diminished; Sean felt his asshole clench and relax, clench and relax, as Dom's tongue firmly opened him. He rested one hand against the sweet spot of Sean's ass, teasing Sean by rubbing his skin quickly, the friction hot and sexy, and Sean was even more embarrassed by how he responded, pushing into Dom's hand. "Will you, I, Dom, I," and Dom knew to slap his ass hard, the sound shocking in the quiet room, and Sean bit his own hand.

Dom slapped him again, even harder, and said, "Now you can get on your knees," and he scrambled a bit, kicking at the sheets. He left his head on his crossed arms, his ass in the air, feeling ridiculous but wanting the humiliation. "Spread your legs," Dom said, and he did, so widely the muscles in his thighs stretched and trembled. Dom slapped the inside of his thigh, which really hurt, and Sean wished he could watch and feel at the same time.

He felt Dom shifting around behind him and relaxed a little. This was what he wanted. When he realized at eleven or twelve what he'd desired, he had known it was bad, not normal, and that he could never tell anyone ever. He'd been frightened to touch himself, even to imagine this act, and now, all these years later, the fear and shame had never left but instead compounded the pleasure. Dom knew all this; they'd talked about it, shyly on Sean's part, lewdly on Dom's, but he knew, and he knew what to do to up the experience for Sean, so Sean wasn't surprised when he was slapped again, and told, "Wider, dammit." His face burned, his ass burned, and then Dom was pressing into him. He was still slick and stretched from the last time, and Dom slid right in. "I'm going to fuck you now, Sean," he said clearly, and did.

How could Sean want this? How could he? He was responsible, a grown up, he was still married, but this, this secret place demanded to be filled, the shame lured him, and first Elijah, then Billy, and finally Dom had each answered that need.

Dom took a long time; Sean's knees grew tired, his ass was sore, he was trembling, but Dom continued, thrusting deeply into him. Sean tried to imagine some kind of anatomical diagram of what was happening, but the facts and images slipped away from him and all he was left with was the sensation, the push, the slick push, the wet and messy noise, and the fullness bearing in him.

He heard Dom groan, his strokes never slowing but becoming sharper, with a snap of his hips, and Sean knew he'd come soon. His own cock rubbed against the pillow beneath him; he tightened his asshole and heard Dom cry out, pause, and then sigh deeply. "You wanna come?" Dom whispered to him, and he nodded his head. "Tell me, Sean. Tell me what you want."

"You know what I want," Sean said.

"Tell me."

"No, I, you, I want you, please, Dom." He pushed deeper into the pillow, Dom's weight driving him forward and down; his cock felt raw, the skin loose and almost burnt, and he was gasping for air, his mouth dry and sticky. Dom slid his hand between Sean and the pillow, and Sean began to fuck Dom's hand, slick with lube, so cool on his burning cock. Dom squeezed, and Sean came with a hoarse cry of relief.

"Fuck," he said when he'd collapsed. He was a mess; the pillow beneath him wet with semen, his ass full of lube. He heard Dom moving around, but Sean was too tired to pay much attention.

"Now that's a lovely sight," Dom said in Billy's voice.

"Come to bed," Sean murmured, so sleepy now.

"Okay, babes," Elijah said, and he woke up, sitting up awkwardly, turning to find Billy and Elijah standing in the doorway. Dom was next to the bed, naked and stunned.

"What -- how?" Sean tried to ask.

Elijah and Billy began pulling off their clothes. "Get a damp cloth," Elijah told Dom, who looked as dumbstruck as Sean felt.

"Have ya never heard of an airplane?" Billy asked, kicking his jeans across the floor. "And if ya didn't want us here, ya shouldna ha' given us keys." Dom flung himself into Billy's arms, who held him tightly. "There, Dommie. It's okay now."

Sean turned around, untangling himself from the sheet, pushing the messy pillow onto the floor, as Elijah climbed onto the bed. "Dom's been spanking you," he said, and Sean felt himself blush. He nodded as Elijah crawled next to him, and they lay down together.

"Christ, dear Christ, but I missed you," he finally said.

"Me, too, Sean. I thought I was dying without you. Like going without water or something."

"Exactly, that's exactly it. If Dom hadn't, he saved me, Dom," Sean looked over Elijah's head at Dom and Billy, still embracing. "Come to bed," he said, trying to calm his breathing.

Billy led Dom to the bed, and Sean and Elijah scooted over. It was a king, still not really big enough, even for four hobbit-sized guys, but it would have to do. Dom lay next to Elijah, his arms around both Billy and Elijah, his face against Billy's chest. "Thank you for taking care of Dom," Billy told Sean, who nodded.

"He took care of me really," he admitted.

Dom sighed heavily and lifted his head. "We took care of each other. It's been so bloody hard, Bill. You can't know."

"I can know," Billy said, and kissed Dom. Sean watched eagerly; they were so beautiful together, so at ease with each other. He and Dom were so different, but Billy and Dom were perfectly matched. They really had been made for each other, Sean was sure of it.

Elijah put his hand on Sean's face and turned it toward himself. "I couldn't believe it when Billy showed up. I almost called you, and then there he was, with tickets for LA."

"Thank Christ," Sean said again, and he meant it; he felt deeply grateful, to God or the universe or whatever random chance had led him to these men, to this bed, to this moment. "I can't be away from you," he started, but then Elijah was kissing him. He lay back onto the bed and let Elijah take the lead, because he was so good at this. He held Sean's head firmly, angling it the way he wanted, eating up Sean's mouth, licking his lips and tongue, kissing and kissing and kissing him.

***

_5am Pacific Standard Time_

Billy's heart had jumped when he saw the way Dom stared at him when he and Elijah had let themselves into his flat. And to find Sean there, obviously freshly fucked, and Dom naked and exhausted was more than good luck, it was a sign, he was sure.

Dom felt wonderful in Billy's embrace; firm and muscle-y, and he smelled hot and sexy and sleepy. He was tired; Billy could tell from his smudgy eyes that he hadn't been sleeping well. No wonder he and Sean were together. Billy wasn't jealous of Sean's place in Dom's life; on the contrary, he was grateful to Sean for taking care of his beloved Dom, because God knew Dom didn't take the best care of himself. Billy had read in the tabloids gossip that sounded like things Dom might do; he'd been worried. But if Dom was with Sean, he could worry a little less.

But Dom needed to put Billy first; those were the unspoken rules the four had devised over their years together. Just as Sean must put Elijah first. So they'd fuck, and it would private, intimate, even in the same bed as the others, because all of Dom's attention would be focused on Billy, and he ate it up. He needed Dom's attention, his nervous energy funneled into Billy.

"I want to fuck you," Billy murmured into Dom's ear, and felt Dom shiver. He slid his hand down the long graceful line of Dom's back and over the beautiful swell of his arse; his arsehole was loose and sticky. So Sean had fucked him earlier. Billy's cock hardened even more at the image of Sean fucking Dom, and he slid two fingers into Dom abruptly, Dom shuddering and compliant. He nudged Dom's face with his chin, and kissed him.

Behind him, he heard Elijah and Sean kissing, their bodies moving on the sheets as they adjusted their positions. Dom had been fucking Sean, too, that had been more than obvious. Billy had been surprised how much Sean loved cock, how much he loved sucking and fucking. He brought his usual enthusiasm to bed with him, and, despite what he and Dom had been up to, Billy could tell without looking that Elijah's presence had roused Sean.

Just as his presence had roused Dom, who was ardently clinging to him, his lips tasting of Sean and cigarettes against Billy's, his hips pumping against Billy's. He groaned into Billy's mouth, who discovered he was trembling with anticipation.

Beautiful, beautiful, Billy thought, sparing a glance at his friends and lovers, so deeply entranced with each other. Always it was this way at first; they paired up as if by instinct, unable to look away, and he looked back at Dom beneath him, already spreading his legs so Billy could crouch between them. He gestured with his head and Dom raised his legs, bending his knees, his feet on either side of Billy's ribcage. This was how he wanted Dom: on his back, legs apart, waiting impatiently, his nervous energy harnessed to Billy's desires. "Oh, you beautiful man," he murmured as he kissed Dom's mouth and face.

He lowered himself carefully, fitting together with Dom as two halves too long separated, and rocked. Dom arched up, wrapping his feet behind Billy, all those years of yoga put to excellent use as he silently requested more and harder. Billy nuzzled his throat, kissing at Dom's scruffy chin, and then sat back on his heels, smiling down at him. "Love you," he mouthed. Dom closed his eyes; Billy knew it was too much for him, to suddenly have Billy here, he knew he did that to Dom and took enormous pride in it. A bit awkwardly, he rearranged himself so his cock pressed against Dom's arsehole, slowly teasing at the opening, slipping almost in but not quite, circling it, while Dom continued to lift his hips, holding himself open for Billy.

Slowly, beyond slowly, he fit himself into Dom, amazed as always that this was possible. It felt brilliant, of course, how not? So hot and tight and sweet, and the noises Dom made as he accepted Billy within him were scarily exciting. Billy pressed his chin to his chest so he could watch himself disappear behind Dom's balls. This was work; he was sweating and shaking with muscle tension, but he wanted everything slow and sweet, so he could memorize every sensation, ever motion, every noise they made: the slick sounds of the lubricant, Dom's harsh breathing, Billy's own heart racing in his ears.

Face-to-face was uncomfortable in ways but he wanted to watch Dom's face and body, and when he hunched over, he could kiss Dom, matching movements of cock and tongue, piercing Dom doubly, as Dom sucked on his tongue and opened to his cock. "Fuck, yeah," Dom groaned.

"Always, always," he breathed. Sweat fell from his forehead onto Dom's throat, and he watched it trickle away, and then another drop fell. He felt as though he'd run a marathon, but he wouldn't rush this, wouldn't risk hurting Dom, wanting this moment to stretch forever. Always, yeah, that's what he wanted, everything and always.

But at last he could resist no more, his body took over and what control he had he relinquished. Beneath him, Dom gasped rhythmically, one hand on Billy's hip, the other on his cock, pulling, sliding, slipping, a rippling motion Billy knew as well as he knew his own pattern. He closed his eyes despite his desire to watch because he was filling up, it was as if Dom were filling him, with love and hope and possibilities and power and pleasure and oh, shit, yeah, he was coming, "I'm coming," he whispered, and Dom jerked beneath him.

Carefully, carefully, he lay down on top of Dom. He would soften quickly; that was new, a product of age, and soon he felt himself slip from Dom's body, another loss. Dom wrapped his arms around Billy's back and hung on. They were drenched with sweat, sticky with semen, and slick with lube, but Billy didn't want to move.

He became aware of Elijah and Sean next to them, and turned his head to watch, resting his cheek against Dom's. The two men were rubbing against each other, Elijah whispering something to Sean that caused him to cry out. Billy knew what Elijah was saying; he'd said it to Sean himself. They all knew what Sean wanted and how the shame of wanting it aroused him even further. As he and Dom watched, Sean came, Elijah kissing him fiercely, then dropping his head so he rested on Sean's shoulder. "Please, Lij," Sean begged hoarsely, and Elijah came, too, so beautifully that, as exhausted as he was, Billy felt an answering quiver behind his balls.

Only now could Sean bear to look away from Elijah, could Elijah look at Billy and Dom. He silently reached out a hand; Billy threaded his fingers through Elijah's. Dom curled his hand beneath their joined ones, and finally Sean stirred enough to stretch out an arm and hook his fingers through all of theirs.

"Hello, boys," Billy said, and felt Dom's smile against his face. Sean smiled sleepily as Elijah cuddled into him.

"Welcome," Sean said, and Elijah nodded. "We missed you guys."

"Missed you, too," Elijah murmured. He slid partly off Sean, and Billy rolled off Dom.

"Come on," he said to Sean. "I need a shower, and you do, too." Dom looked up at him with a hurt expression on his face. Billy kissed him tenderly. "I'll be right back. Don't you want a few minutes with Elijah?"

He nodded, but clung to Billy as he rose from the bed. Sean gently ran his hand down Elijah's face, then clambered from the bed. He bent over and kissed first Elijah and then Dom. "Come on," Billy said again.

He liked walking naked through Dom's flat, the hazy LA sunlight streaming through the windows. The toilet was off the hall between the two bedrooms, a nice sized one, bigger than in Billy's Glasgow flat, and bright with reflected sunlight. The shower was encased in a cloudy glass cell; he twisted the taps and slid shut the door, letting the water warm while studying Sean.

"You look good," Sean said. He was self-conscious about his body, Billy knew well, and one foot jiggled nervously. Billy rubbed his hands up and down Sean's arms before drawing him against his body and massaging Sean's back.

"You feel good," he whispered. "Was surprised to see you here."

"Is it okay?" Sean asked anxiously, pulling his head back to see into Billy's face. "We just, two nights ago. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, Billy, you know that, you must --"

"Shh, shh," Billy whispered, hugging Sean tightly. "I can't stay, Sean. I want someone to look after Dom, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather have with him than you. You will take care of m' boy, will you not?"

"Oh, God, yes, Bill . . . " Billy could tell Sean was about to embark on one of his endless analyses, so to circumvent that, he kissed him again, as passionately as he could, inserting a hand between Sean's legs and feeling him open to Billy, almost obediently.

Billy remembered his shock when he'd discovered what Sean had wanted, and the power that knowledge had brought him. Poor Sean, wanting and fearing all twined together for him; Billy thought he got off on the shame nearly as much as the pleasure and so made sure to provide moments of both for him when they were together. From the pinkness of Sean's ample arse, he knew Dom had done the same. He could practically hear Sean's thoughts, so he opened the shower door behind them and urged Sean inside. Dom had some all-natural soap, an odd green colour, but it smelt good and lathered just fine, so he scrubbed Sean all over, intimately probing with fingers and sponge. Sean blushed and stuttered but obligingly bent over when Billy pushed on his back. Billy smiled; he loved this, he fucking loved this.

"Should I fuck you here?" he wondered aloud, gently moving his finger around Sean's arsehole, tender and pink, and saw Sean tremble and felt him clench. "Oh, I think ya'd like that, wouldn't ya, Seanie? Tell me, eh? What are ya wantin'?"

"God, Billy," Sean gasped, bracing himself against the tiled shower wall as the water poured onto his back, sluicing down his body. He was beautiful, "You're beautiful," Billy told him. In fact, Billy couldn't rise to the occasion, not after fucking Dom so thoroughly, but he used both hands and his mouth. Sean was groaning, nearly collapsed, when Billy finally stood and popped his back. "Wash me," he said, and watched as Sean pulled himself together.

"Shit, I missed you," Sean told him, stretching his arms over his head, and then obeyed, washing them both, scrubbing vigourously. When they were rinsed and the water starting to cool, he knelt and sucked Billy's cock into his mouth. Billy thought he could fall asleep like that, with Sean softly mouthing him, but the hot water really was going and they both needed to lie down.

Dom and Elijah were curled around each other like littermates when Billy and Sean returned to the bedroom, which smelt of cigarettes and sex and a night smell Billy associated with Dom. They stood in the doorway for a moment, arms looped around each other's damp bodies, watching. "We need to make room somehow," Sean pointed out. Billy kissed his cheek, released him, and then bent over the men in the bed.

"Dom, Dommie," he whispered. Dom instantly opened his eyes to Billy's voice and smiled; Billy thought again what an idiot he was ever to leave Dom, and cupped Dom's face in his hand. "Move over, sweetheart," he said quietly. "Other side of Lij."

Sean came up behind Dom, putting his arms around Billy's waist, and Dom looked past Billy at Sean, reaching up a hand to rest on Sean's hand. "Come to bed," he said, his voice deep and husky. Sean kissed Billy's neck and released him, then knee-walked across the bed to lie behind Elijah while Dom rolled over him to lie between Elijah and Billy.

Billy lay down and Dom automatically shoved his way into Billy's arms, resting his head on Billy's chest, kissing a nipple before closing his eyes. Billy listened to him fall back into sleep, his breathing almost a snore. Allergies, he knew, and kissed the top of Dom's head. He saw Elijah open his eyes and smile at him, snuggling back into the curve of Sean's body, his arms and legs wrapped around Elijah.

Elijah was almost instantly back asleep, and then slowly Sean drifted off. Billy lay in Dom's bed, wedged together with these sleeping men, listening to their breathing, matching his own breaths to theirs. He was warm and clean and loose-limbed with pleasure. He knew he'd be asleep in moments although he hated to lose a minute away from them. He thought of Glasgow, cold and damp and so far from the people he loved most in this world, but someplace he had to be. Billy needed a physical home in a way the others didn't seem to, but his heart was ever torn in two. There was home, and then there was his heart's home, which was here, right here, tangled with these three more-than-brothers.

He sighed, and slipped into sleep.

***

_10am Pacific Standard Time_

When Elijah woke, he was wrapped in a cocoon of loving arms: Sean's holding him from behind, and Dom's draped over both of them, with Billy's lying over them all. He smiled and snuggled deeper into their sleeping embrace.

He'd felt so lost and alone in New York. Was that just yesterday? No, the night before that, not even forty-eight hours ago. He'd stood looking out onto the city, his new home, feeling adrift and so sorry for himself.

Now, here he was, his mates surrounding him, a real hobbit pile, a real home. It wouldn't last long, he knew; Billy would go back to Glasgow, back to the rehearsals for his new play. Dom would be off making another movie or television pilot. Sean would return to his children and maybe even his wife, though Elijah wasn't sure how much longer that would last.

And he would return to New York, at least for a little while. He had three movies lined up, filming all over the world. So this was only a respite, a few days of safety and security, of constant entertainment and stimulation.

Yet it didn't feel like a vacation or an escape. It felt more real than that. It felt like home, as if this was the real world and the rest of the time he was just a character in somebody else's movie. Yes, he had roles to play -- he took care of Sean, while Billy and Dom took care of him -- but those roles were different from the ones he was paid to perform; they were aspects of him that could emerge only here.

He sighed and shifted, wanting to diffuse the anxiety rising in him as he contemplated the brevity of this encounter. Fingers stroked his face and he looked up to find Billy smiling down at him. "Go to sleep," Billy whispered, and Elijah smiled back, kissing Billy's thumb, then biting it mischievously. Billy slid his fingers under Elijah's chin and shook him gently, smoothing his thumb over Elijah's lips.

Dom slumbered on, and Elijah watched him. He felt Sean slip out of bed, kissing Elijah's shoulder; a few minutes later, he followed, moving slowly and carefully so as not to wake Dom and Billy again.

Sean was sitting on the can in the bathroom; he blushed when Elijah pushed open the door. "Lij --" he began, but Elijah selected a toothbrush -- he didn't much care whose it was -- squirted toothpaste onto it and began to brush, smiling foamily at Sean, who shook his head. He was leaning over the sink spitting, when Dom sneaked around him, running his finger down between Elijah's cheeks. "For Christ's sake," Sean complained, "I'm trying to take a dump."

"I noticed, but even that's better than when Billy farts in bed," Dom said, reaching over Sean to start the shower. "Come on, Lij. We both need a good washing up."

"I'm gonna flush," Sean warned, wiping himself, so Dom waited until he had done so, smirking at him, before pulling Elijah into the shower with him. "Don't injure yourselves," Sean said, washing his hands. Then he stuck his head right into the shower and kissed Dom; Elijah watched, excited and happy for his friends, sad that they were so lonely they had had to turn to each other. When they parted, Sean motioned to Elijah and kissed him, licking the shower water off his lips, nuzzling him sweetly. "I think I could sleep some more."

"Go, go," Elijah urged, smiling fondly at Sean's dripping head.

Dom caught Sean's arm, kissed him hard, and closed the shower door. He turned to Elijah. "Oh, you dirty boy," he said, and they reached for each other, Elijah feeling the old rush and seeing its answer in Dom's eyes before they closed, the water streaking down his face, his hair plastered to his forehead. His body was firm and warm, slippery as they embraced; Elijah was already hard again, rubbing up against Dom's thigh, nudging Dom's balls with the head of Elijah's dick. "You feel good, you feel good, you feel good," Elijah whispered, clutching at Dom's back, ridged with muscles.

And he did, he felt incredible to Elijah, his body thrumming with life and energy. How could Elijah have left this? He couldn't remember making a decision that included leaving Dom behind. Leaving Dom had never been part of the bargain he made with himself, to grow up, to grow as a person and a performer.

But then all thought fled as Dom jerked Elijah even closer, cupping his ass with both hands, pulling him up to his toes, so Elijah slung his arms around Dom's neck and stretched up. Dom backed into the wall, pulling Elijah with him. They clung to each other, kissing, stroking each other, Elijah pressing his fingers into Dom's scalp, sliding their bodies against each other fiercely, desperately, and Elijah grew near tears as he grew near climax, passion warring with fear of the future. He found Dom's mouth again, his lips firm, opening to Elijah, his tongue warm against Elijah's own. Elijah pushed harder against him and Dom jerked back, knocking his head against the tile. "Be careful!" Elijah whispered, cradling the back of Dom's head with his hand.

"Sean'll be all over us," Dom agreed, kissing Elijah's nose. Elijah cautiously went to his knees and pressed his face into Dom's groin, the pubic hair tickling his nose, mouthing Dom's balls and licking his cock. He still tasted of Billy and Sean, Elijah thought; he still tasted amazing. Using both hands, he seized Dom, wet from the water still streaming down, and worked him hard, tugging at him and sucking on him, using his tongue and lips and hands. Dom panted above him. Elijah loved this as much as Sean did, he loved cock, he loved knowing that he gave powerful blow jobs. "Fuck, oh, Lij, oh," Dom cried, and Elijah heard him knock his head again, and then he came, not much, but deeply salty and thick in Elijah's mouth.

He licked his lips, as satisfied as a cat, and rose, his own cock demanding attention Dom was obviously happy to provide; he jerked off Elijah firmly, one hand on his cock, the other rubbing the loose skin of his balls while Elijah braced himself with outstretched arms, hands pressed firmly into the shower walls, his head dropped back. The water was cooling but he didn't care, he just wanted this moment to last forever. He let Dom do the work this time, and focused all his attention on the sensations in his cock and balls, wishing there could be more, wishing Billy was fucking him, wishing Sean were kissing him, and then he came, too, a thin jet of white, another kind of writing on Dom's hands.

When they'd taken a chilly shower and dried off, they returned to find Sean and Billy changing the bed. Elijah laughed and flung himself onto the bed, stretching out, trying to reach all four corners while Sean and Billy tugged at the sheet, pulling it over the corners of the mattress, and Dom shook the top sheet out, letting it flutter over him, a warm snow flurry. Then Sean slid next to him, and he turned to kiss Sean. Feeling foolishly near tears again, he held tightly onto Sean, who embraced him tenderly, his arms around Elijah's shoulders, one sturdy thigh pressed between Elijah's legs.

He was, he admitted to himself, momentarily sexed out, but this connection was more than sexual. He craved the pressure of body against body, and Sean responded to his need. Billy crawled into the bed next, leaning over Elijah to kiss Sean; Elijah watched their mouths and tongues entwine, wet and sexy and sweet. Then Billy kissed him, just as sweet and just as sexy, while groping Elijah's ass, making him squirm and giggle through the kisses. Dom draped himself over Billy and Sean strained up to meet his mouth, one hand on Dom's face, the other pressed into the bed beside Elijah's head as Billy continued to kiss him. He found it enthralling, the sounds of their mouths together, the pressure of Billy's lips on his, of Dom's hand on him, of Sean's body crushed against his.

They lay down together, sleepy, sated, storing up the sensations against the barren future they knew steamrolled toward them, when Billy would return to Glasgow, Elijah to New York, Dom to Hawaii, Sean here in LA, all alone, all separate. How they had come together seemed a miracle to them, and they gave thanks in the only ways they could, offering their bodies to each other, gentle, tender, fierce, firm, the shared knowledge of each other's physicality a secret they carried with them through tedious meetings, interviews, photo ops, carried by furtive glances shared across rooms, beyond the flashes, over phone lines, through television cameras. Hey, they silently said, peering from the corners of their eyes; I know you're out there watching. I know you remember what I do, that you need what I need. Miles away, time zones apart, separated by continents or oceans, they remained connected.

Until one said, "Come," and the others responded. Come, come now, come here, and they came. Married, Dom had joked, but maybe he was right; maybe they were in some impossible way married; certainly they were profoundly bound to each other beyond any legalities or requisites of friendship, joined in some manner that transcended friendship, and even transcended love. "Come," they said, and they came together.

* * *

Posted May 31, 2007


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